Julia was still fast asleep, Porcia, too, in a small pallet bed on the other side of the room, as Livia stood in the open doorway of their shared cubicula, trying to get her thoughts back into some semblance of order. She didn’t know what had come over her on the palisade. Her pulse was still racing and not just because of the speed at which she’d fled back through the fort.
It had been an accident, bumping into Marius, yet the memory of it was seared so deep in her mind that she could almost feel the warm, solid pressure of his hands on her waist again, making her knees tremble and her nerve endings tingle anew, as if she had no control over her own body.
They hadn’t kissed, but just standing so close to him had provoked a physical reaction she hadn’t known she was capable of. That side of her marriage had been unpleasant at best and painful at worst, a brief and uncomfortable joining of bodies after which Julius had left her chamber almost immediately. It had brought her joy in the form of Julia, but a guilty part of her had been relieved when he’d turned against her and stopped coming to her bed. That had been the one positive of Tarquinius’s interference.
What would going to bed with Marius be like? she wondered. She’d never imagined wanting to share a bed, let alone her body, with any man, but something about him made her curious. No, more than that, positively aroused by the idea. He’d awoken yearnings she hadn’t known she possessed and yet it hadn’t just been a physical attraction either. Despite her initial irritation and his customary sternness, she’d felt drawn to him as a person, too, genuinely wanting to know more about his past, even wanting to tell him about hers as well. She’d come perilously close to telling him everything, as if he were the kind of man she could tell everything to, although she’d settled for a half-truth instead, admitting that her mother was a Briton without specifying which side of the wall she’d come from.
It had been a moment of madness, one that had put them both at risk. They’d been standing on the ramparts in full view of anyone who’d cared to look up, though fortunately they’d been far enough from the barrack blocks that she didn’t think anyone had. There had been no sign of the guard when she’d run away either, as if the very sight of Marius had been enough to dismiss him, but it had still been a dangerous thing to do. If anyone had seen them together, it would have looked like a tryst and then Scaevola would definitely have refused to marry her, and Tarquinius would have had no compunction about cutting her and Julia off completely—and then where would they be?
If only she’d been the one to put a stop to their kiss! Then she might have maintained some semblance of dignity, but she hadn’t. She’d wanted to carry on, to do more than just touch him, to feel his lips moulded against hers and his hands on the rest of her body, so much that for one insane moment she’d risked her whole future and that of her daughter, too.
She must have been mad, but what about Marius? What had he wanted? For a few seconds, she’d thought that he’d wanted to kiss her as well. He’d bent his head as if he’d been going to, but then he’d drawn away and apologised, as if it had just been an instinctive reaction that he regretted. He’d even tried to take the blame, apologising again for touching her while she was grieving, as if she ought to be grieving, which in other circumstances she supposed she would have agreed with.
She rested her head against the door frame and groaned softly. What must he think of her now, a recent widow wandering around an army camp on her own, betrothed to one man and throwing herself into the arms of another? It was no wonder he’d pulled away. He’d probably been horrified—although he hadn’t seemed horrified. His expression had looked torn, as if he’d been genuinely surprised by his own reaction to her, as if, perhaps, he’d been fighting his own inclinations when he’d pulled away. Was that why he’d done it, not from repulsion, but because he’d been trying to do the honourable thing?
There was no way to know and absolutely no way to find out. All she did know was that it couldn’t happen again. She couldn’t afford to get swept up in physical sensations, no matter how pleasurable they promised to be. That was all they were, after all, physical sensations, not emotional ones. She’d only met Marius the day before and surely it was impossible to develop deeper feelings for any man so quickly, no matter how close she might have felt to him.
She liked him, that was all, liked his straightforward manner and air of stern dependability. Even his insistence on escorting her back to the villa was appealing in an irritating sort of way. The fact that he’d been prepared to wait, that he hadn’t simply ordered her to return, even more so. But the very fact that she liked him was also the reason why she had to avoid him from now on. He wanted to become Senior Centurion and he wouldn’t get promoted by being seen alone with his senior officer’s new bride. As for her, she was there to marry Scaevola and that was what she had to do, for Julia’s sake, no matter what her own personal desires. She had to build a secure future for her daughter, even if it meant sacrificing her own.
Besides, it was enough, she told herself, the love that she felt for her daughter. It was the reason why she’d submitted to another unwanted, arranged marriage in the first place, putting aside her own hopes and dreams. She’d hoped, as she’d almost told Marius on the walkway, that she might one day build a different kind of relationship with a man, a new husband of her own choosing, a man she could be herself with, her real self, without judgement or condemnation. But who was to say that Marius wouldn’t behave the same way as Scaevola if he ever discovered the whole truth about her, if he discovered that her mother wasn’t just Briton, but Caledonian, too? Not to mention the rest of it. What made him any different to any other man? He was a Roman from Rome itself! What made him special except for a feeling?
‘Ah, there you are.’ Hermenia bustled up behind her, bearing a cup filled with what looked and smelled like warm milk. ‘You must be famished, my dear. You were fast asleep when I came to find you last night and I didn’t want to wake you. The pair of you looked so cosy.’
‘I’m sorry. I meant to come back and say goodnight, but...’
‘Nonsense, it’s a horrendous journey. I ought to know—I’ve made it often enough. Here...’ Hermenia passed her the milk ‘...I’ve flavoured it with honey for sweetness. Now I’m afraid that you have to pay for your accommodation here by spending all of your free time with me. I’m so pleased to have another woman to talk to and your daughter is perfectly adorable. I have two sons, both of them grown now, but between you and me I always wanted a girl. I should warn you, I intend to spoil her terribly.’
‘I think she’d like that.’ Livia smiled at the thought. It would make a nice change for Julia to be spoiled by anybody. ‘Aren’t there any other women in the fort?’
‘Not many.’ Hermenia sighed. ‘The new Emperor’s changed the rules about soldiers being allowed to marry, but it’s still early days and a lot of the officers’ wives prefer to stay in Eboracum.’
‘Didn’t you want to stay there, too?’
‘Not a bit.’ The older woman shook her head vehemently. ‘I’ve been at Nerva’s side for twenty-five years and I intend to stay there to the end. A few discomforts don’t bother me, not that there are many now that repairs to the villa are finished, but not everyone’s cut out to be a military wife.’
‘I’m not sure I am either.’
‘Well, I am sure. I knew the moment I saw you that you weren’t like the rest.’
Livia took a sip of milk to hide her expression. Hermenia’s warm tone made it sound like a compliment, but she’d spent so much of her life not belonging that she couldn’t help but wonder if there was another meaning behind the words.
‘By the by—’ Hermenia gave her a shrewd look ‘—I noticed that you went out for a walk this morning.’
‘Ye-es.’ She forced herself to sound casual, though the memory of her walk sent a sharp thrill shooting down her spine. Foolishly she’d assumed that no one would have noticed her absence. Now she didn’t know what to do with her expression. ‘I wanted a look around.’
‘Alone?’
‘Yes.’ She took another sip of milk, bracing herself to mention Marius’s name. If she didn’t mention him, then it would be more incriminating if Hermenia found out about their meeting from someone else, though she was sure the guilt must be obvious on her face.
‘I met Centurion Varro on the ramparts. He told me I shouldn’t be out on my own.’
‘He’s right. At that time in the morning, half the men aren’t even dressed.’ The older woman chuckled. ‘You might have seen more than you bargained for.’
‘I just wanted some time on my own to think.’
‘Of course.’ Hermenia put a hand on her arm. ‘It’s just lucky that it was Marius who found you. He’s a good man and an excellent soldier. My husband trusts him more than anyone else in the Legion, but then they go back a long way. He’s known Marius since he was a boy.’
‘Yes, he told me he joined the army at fourteen.’
‘Marius told you that?’ Hermenia looked surprised. ‘Well, it’s true, although I admit I didn’t approve of Nerva turning a blind eye to his age at the time. But it was what the boy wanted and, in all honesty, there was nowhere else for him to go. After what happened to his father he didn’t have many choices. Nerva always felt bad about that, not that he could have done any more to help than he did, but it was still a terrible thing.’
‘What happened to his father?’ Livia lifted her eyebrows in surprise. Marius had mentioned his father being a senior centurion, but what was so bad about that? Although he’d said something about family honour, too...
Hermenia’s expression seemed to waver for a moment and then settle again. ‘Something that’s better left in the past. Nothing for you to worry about anyway, but he and my husband were great friends. That’s why Nerva sponsored Marius when he enlisted. He felt responsible for him in a way. It’s why he’s always kept a close eye on him, too, not that he needs it any more.’
‘Yes. He seems very...’ she sought for a suitably bland word, not wanting to say anything that might arouse suspicion ‘...competent.’
‘He is.’ Hermenia gave her a nudge with her elbow. ‘Handsome, too.’
‘I suppose so.’ She drained the last of her milk in a hurry. ‘Although he looks very stern.’
‘He has a lot to be stern about.’ The elbow nudged outwards again. ‘But he’s certainly more of a man than Scaevola. Not as well connected obviously, but superior in other ways that matter. If I were twenty years younger... Come now, you’ve been married before. You know what I mean.’
‘No.’ Livia felt herself blushing. She didn’t know what the other woman meant, not exactly, although since meeting Marius she was beginning to get a clearer idea.
‘Ah.’ Hermenia’s eyes filled with sympathy. ‘Your first marriage wasn’t a happy one, then?’
‘I...’ She hesitated, instinctively about to deny it, and then shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Oh, my dear... Well, try not to worry about Scaevola. Yesterday was bound to be difficult for both of you. You’d never met before and he’s...’
‘An arrogant, opinionated boy?’
‘Ye-es.’ Hermenia made a face although she didn’t deny it. ‘He has a high opinion of himself, it’s true, but I’m sure tonight will be different.’
‘Tonight?’
‘Nerva’s inviting him for dinner. I’m sure you’ll get along better now that you’ve both had a chance to sleep on it.’
‘Oh.’ She didn’t think any such thing. Instead she felt a definite sinking feeling.
‘In the meantime, we’ll have a pleasant day together. I’m sure you’d like a bath and a change of clothes. Then I can show you around properly.’
‘Yes, thank you, I’d like that very much.’ She forced herself to smile. After all, perhaps Hermenia was right and she’d simply got off to a bad start with Scaevola. She ought at least to give him a second chance.
‘Good.’ Hermenia looked relieved. ‘Then it’s all settled. I’m sure by tonight he’ll be a whole different man.’
Livia clamped her lips together. If Scaevola was going to be a whole different man, then she knew exactly which one she’d want him to be.